


An Ache I Still Remember

by SocialDegenerate



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Dancer!Sylvain, Finger Sucking, Floor Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Time Skip, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 14:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21120305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDegenerate/pseuds/SocialDegenerate
Summary: It's been a while, and Felix and Sylvain waste no time getting to know each other again.If Felix had thought that Sylvain looked stunning- not that he’d ever admit it out loud, of course- while sitting astride a warhorse, that had nothing on the way he looked as he spun around the battlefield in a swirl of flowing material with the Lance of Ruin in his hands.





	An Ache I Still Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to all six people who voted in my twitter poll re: who should top, you know who you are (...but I don't).

Distraction was fatal on the battlefield.

It was a lesson that had been drilled into Felix for as long as he could remember, and one that had kept him alive through five long years of war. A sharp sword and a sharper focus were enough to get him out of even the worst situations, and neither had failed him yet. Still, Felix didn’t think that any of his combat instructors could have predicted quite _this_ many distractions all at once.

The damn boar prince was alive.

The damn boar prince was alive, and so was their old teacher.

The damn boar prince was alive, and so was their old teacher, and apparently somewhere in the past five years Sylvain _fucking_ Jose _fucking_ Gautier had decided that reclassing as a Dancer was a good idea.

If Felix had thought that Sylvain looked stunning- not that he’d ever admit it out loud, of course- while sitting astride a warhorse, that had nothing on the way he looked as he spun around the battlefield in a swirl of flowing material with the Lance of Ruin in his hands. Sylvain had obviously _not_ been slacking off on his training while they’d been apart, for once, as his lack of armour didn’t seem to matter when he was faster than any of the bandits who were attempting to loot the ruins of Garreg Mach.

Felix, on the other hand, was glad for his armour when Sylvain darted past with one long, well-muscled leg on display and he nearly missed the bandit coming at him from behind. It was an amateur mistake and had he been fighting on his own, there was a good chance he would have been injured; but Ingrid rode past and took care of the approaching bandit, pausing for long enough to pin Felix with the kind of disapproving stare that said she knew exactly why he wasn’t focusing the way he should have been.

Mentally berating himself, Felix glanced around for any nearby enemies and took a moment to shake himself out, recentering his focus firmly enough that no amount of Sylvain’s naked skin could break it.

And then Sylvain ran past in the direction of the rest of the battle and slapped Felix on the ass as he went, calling out, “Come on! We’ll win this without you if you don’t get moving!”

Anyone else would have lost their hand for that- if they were _lucky._ But Sylvain had seen more (...and touched more) of Felix than anyone else had, and so he got away with only a halfhearted shout following him. Sylvain’s laughter trailed behind him, such a familiar sound that it made Felix’s heart ache, and if he spent most of the battle with one eye on Sylvain, well…

_Someone_ had to make sure that idiot didn’t take a sword to his- _broad, strong, uncovered-_ body.

* * *

They won, of course. 

Small-time bandits weren’t enough to stand up to a collection of the Kingdom’s strongest fighters, before even factoring in the professor and Dimitri; not that Felix wanted to dwell on the semi-coherent, one-eyed beast of a monarch who had disappeared back into the ruins of the monastery as soon as the battle was won.

However, he certainly didn’t have the time to dwell, with the excitement around Byleth’s return and the reunion of the Blue Lions quickly reaching a fever pitch that had resulted in a hastily-gathered feast for one and all. Dimitri hadn’t made a reappearance, but it was probably better for everyone that he was left to his own devices rather than them having to pretend that he hadn’t thrown off the last layers of his humanity.

In some deep, unpleasant part of him, Felix was glad to have been proven right about the boar.

But he kept those thoughts to himself, instead engaging in the conversations around him exactly as much as he needed to and no more. All that was left on the scavenged remains of the dining hall tables were scraps of the meal, and even as Felix sat there and listened to his friends discuss what they had been doing for five years, he was acutely aware of someone intensely watching him from across the table.

A foot kicked Felix’s leg under the table, and he looked over to see Sylvain raising an eyebrow at him with the faintest tilt of his head towards the door. It was the signal they’d used to escape numerous house dinners, to train or sleep or do_...other things_ instead, and with a flood of nostalgia for a simpler time Felix nudged Sylvain back, at least taking enough care not to squash Sylvain’s sandaled foot with his boot.

“I’m gonna go see if there’s anything worth salvaging out here,” Sylvain announced with an easy grin. “Felix, come with.”

“No,” Felix said for show.

“_C’mon,” _Sylvain wheedled, and for a moment Felix was seventeen again and Sylvain was trying to convince him to cut class. “What if there are still bandits out there? Do you _want_ me to die now that we’re finally all together again after five years?”

Felix opened his mouth, but Sylvain raised a hand to cut him off. “Actually, don’t answer that. Just come with.” 

Rolling his eyes, Felix stood up before Sylvain could walk around the table and try to haul him up, dodging out of the way when Sylvain tried to sling a friendly arm around his shoulder. He’d gone five years with the bare minimum of human contact, and the last thing he wanted to do was to _melt_ into Sylvain in front of their...friends? Comrades? Whatever.

“Prickly bastard,” Sylvain sighed fondly. He lead the way out of the dining hall and into the gardens- or what remained of them. The stone walls were crumbling and the previously lush grass was dead in parts and overrun with weeds in others, while the shattered path would have been a hazard had the moon not been full and bright enough to light the way. 

Felix had never particularly been one for trying to hang on to the past, but he still maybe missed the way the monastery had used to be.

Lost in thought, Felix jolted when the back of Sylvain’s hand brushed against his own. Once upon a time, the touch would have been familiar- despite the amount of times Felix had reminded Sylvain not to be too obvious where people could see them. But it had been a long five years with nothing but the bare minimum of official correspondence between them, and Felix had assumed that their budding relationship had become another victim of the senseless war.

Glancing over at Sylvain, there was nothing on his face that indicated the contact had even been deliberate, and so Felix was ready to write it off as an accident when a large, calloused hand suddenly captured his own and linked their fingers together. He didn’t remember Sylvain’s skin being quite so rough, but it was obvious from his performance on the battlefield that Sylvain no longer avoided training as much as he once had. 

“Someone will see-” Felix started, trying to shake Sylvain off. He wasn’t sure quite how he felt about picking up right back where they had left off, but he couldn’t possibly think straight with Sylvain’s warm hand in his own.

“And?”

For once there was no laughter in Sylvain’s tone, the fake type he put on for women or otherwise. Since the moment his horse had pulled up alongside Felix’s own on the way to Garreg Mach, he’d been all smiles and charm and terrible flirtations; the whole thing had been so fake that it had turned Felix’s stomach. Without it, though, Felix’s stomach still turned: it felt too raw, too intimate, for them to come back together so easily after five years apart.

And so he gave into his meaner instincts, because the idea that he could still love Sylvain after so many years apart was more than he could handle. “And because you were oh-so-ready to run back home and play the good little heir, I assumed that meant you were finished with risking it all for a dead-end tryst.”

Giving one last good tug to get his hand free, Felix frowned when Sylvain only hung on tighter. “Excuse me?”

“Can’t risk the Gautier bloodline ending during a war,” Felix spat, his stomach rolling from old insecurities. Their relationship had always had an unspoken expiration date, their duties to marry and reproduce hanging over them like a dark cloud, and Felix had always assumed that the date in question had long since passed for Sylvain. “You can’t expect me to believe that your father hasn’t organised for you to be married off already.”

Sylvain stopped walking and opened his mouth, Felix preparing for a pointed blow from the man who still knew him best after all this time- and then it never came.

Apparently one of them had matured since they had last met, and apparently it wasn’t Felix. Closing his mouth again, Sylvain took a deep breath and visibly centered himself, his thumb beginning to rub the back of Felix’s hand. “I refused.”

“What?”

“I refused,” Sylvain repeated, not meeting Felix’s eyes. “He had a marriage arranged for me before I even got home, and I refused it.”

“You’re a fool,” Felix said, snuffing out an idiotic bit of hope that he hadn’t even realised still existed. “You don’t even wear armour on the field anymore and you think you’ll get another chance at marriage?”

“What can I say,” Sylvain said with a bitter, humourless laugh. “I suppose I thought I might still have a chance to be happy in a dead-end tryst, provided the other half wasn’t rotting on a battlefield somewhere.”

“Your father-”

“Was furious, yes. But I’m the one who had to clean up the mess he made of his own firstborn son, so pardon me if I don’t want to follow in his footsteps.”

Before Felix could react, Sylvain stepped in front of him and grabbed his other hand, holding onto both as if they were his only lifelines. “Felix, I spent five years wondering if the next battle would be the one where we would fight side-by-side again, or if the next messenger would be the one bringing news of the fall of House Fraldarius. And I promised myself that the next time I saw you, I would either find out for sure that I had no lasting chance with you or hold onto you and never let go.”

“I-” Felix managed to say before being interrupted again, and would Sylvain let him finish a complete sentence at some point?

“And goddess, you saw Dimitri,” Sylvain said, looking haunted. “He’s mad. This war has taken what little he had left and I...I can’t let that happen to us just so my father can treat my children the way he did his own.”

Now that they were closer, the gentle moonlight allowed Felix to see the new scars scattered across Sylvain’s skin. Each one was a hit that Felix hadn’t been there to protect him from, and a few were awfully close to places that could have been lethal. Would anyone have even told him if Sylvain had fallen in battle? Or would he simply have found out when Sylvain didn’t arrive at Garreg Mach with the rest of them?

The thought made Felix nauseous.

Felix had never been one for words, didn’t know where to start addressing what Sylvain had told him, but he could do actions. He was less likely to fuck that up and shatter whatever precious thing Sylvain had left hanging between them; and standing on the edge of the garden with no protection from the weather, Sylvain was clearly feeling the cold against his exposed skin. 

Finally pulling his hands out of Sylvain’s own, Felix ignored the quickly-covered hurt on his face and busied himself with taking off the heavy travelling cloak that he’d kept on in the half-ruined dining hall. Sylvain was taller and broader than himself so it wasn’t a particularly good fit as he awkwardly threw the cloak around Sylvain’s shoulders, but that didn’t matter when Sylvain was looking at him with such open vulnerability and _ hope. _

“You were shivering,” Felix said slowly, suddenly embarrassed by his impulsive action. “That...outfit can’t be warm enough.”

“It’s not,” Sylvain agreed, and this time his laugh was real. Quiet and fragile, but _ real. _ “I’m so glad you’re here, Felix.”

Not quite sure how to verbalise the emotions rushing through him, Felix simply nodded, letting the silence descend around them. Without his cloak, the weather felt that much harsher- but he was still wearing more than Sylvain had been, and he could handle a little cold. 

Except, of course, Sylvain had never been content to agree with Felix.

“C’mere,” Sylvain said, and he didn’t give Felix enough time to react before he was closing in on him, wrapping his arms and the cloak around Felix in the most human contact Felix had experienced in years. Perhaps even since the day Sylvain had left for Gautier territory. 

“What are you doing?” Felix asked pointlessly, Sylvain not bothering to answer. Instead he held on tighter, bending down to bury his face in Felix’s neck and cling to him like he never wanted to let go.

“I love you,” Sylvain mumbled, the words hot against Felix’s neck. “I love you, and if you’ll have me then I never want to leave you again. I don’t care what our families think, I just...need you.”

Sliding his hands under the cloak, Felix wrapped his arms around Sylvain’s waist and somehow managed to ignore his instinct to check if anyone was around to see them first. It had never been his own family’s opinion that he’d been worried about in the past, after all; his father was less obsessed with passing on his bloodline than the Margrave was. That didn’t mean he would _agree_ with Felix’s choices, of course, but Felix had never feared being disinherited.

If anything, it would have come as a relief.

“So can I take the fact that all my body parts are still attached to mean that you’re not rejecting me?” 

That earned Sylvain a light pinch to his hip, making him squirm and laugh. “Yes, you fool.”

“You’re the most romantic person I’ve ever met.” Holding Felix tight to his chest, Sylvain eventually let him go and stepped back, Felix letting his arms fall away from Sylvain’s waist. They weren’t out of contact for long, though, as Sylvain linked his hand back with Felix’s and tugged him out of the garden.

Glancing around, Sylvain’s face lit up when he saw the stables. Earlier the group of them had cleaned the area well enough for their horses to be safe there, and the signs of life in the area had Felix remembering their old days at the monastery.

And apparently he wasn’t the only one.

“Hey, remember when the professor used to always put us on stable duty together?” Sylvain asked.

“And we barely got anything done because you wanted to make out in the back of the stables all the time?”

“What’s that you said? You want to make out in the back of the stables like old times?” Sylvain was grinning, looking far too pleased with himself, but Felix simply scoffed at him.

“And here I thought you were a _gentleman._ I’m hardly going to lower myself to reuniting with you while surrounded by horses.”

“Ah, indeed,” Sylvain said. He nodded sagely, lowering himself into a bow and lifting their joined hands to kiss the back of Felix’s with a dramatic flourish of his _ridiculous_ outfit. “Wanna go make out in our old dorms, then?”

Swallowing hard, Felix looked Sylvain up and down, fully aware that Sylvain knew what he was doing. The man had a sixth sense for when he was being admired- or so he always claimed. With the heat of battle and the unexpected reunion of their class and Sylvain’s stupid, near-naked grace still flooding through his veins, Felix decided to take a chance he hadn’t let himself even consider for five years.

“It’s been a long time, Sylvain. I should hope you would like to do something more than just making out.”

Sylvain blinked dumbly at him a few times, Felix’s lips twitching at his dazed expression. It didn’t last long, though, as Sylvain laughed and tightened his hand around Felix’s. “Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?”

Sylvain took off so fast that Felix nearly had to run to keep up, and then suddenly they _were_ running hand-in-hand through the ruins of Garreg Mach, Sylvain laughing freely and Felix practically basking in the sound. 

It was the first time Felix had felt so free since he had last been at the monastery, although he suspected it was more to do with the company than with his return to his old academy. Tomorrow they would deal with the ruins, the war, their mad leader; but he hardly thought the world would begrudge him one night with Sylvain.

The stairs up to the second floor of the dormitory were crumbling and probably unsafe, and Felix wasn’t expecting their old rooms to be in any better condition. The doors they passed were broken or missing entirely, and one glance into his room told Felix that they probably didn’t want to even bother stepping foot inside. Sylvain’s old room at the end of the hall wasn’t in great condition either, but after Sylvain wrenched the door open they could see from the moonlight streaming in the window that, at the very least, the walls were still intact. 

The bed was a rotted wreck that Felix would not have been willing to place a single hand on, much less both of their naked bodies, and thankfully Sylvain had enough sense to not even bother testing it out. That sense, though, didn’t seem to extend to him coming up with somewhere else for their first time together in five years, and Felix watched in vague disappointment as Sylvain took off the cloak Felix had draped him in and spread it out on the floor.

“No,” Felix said, and if he hadn’t been so turned on he might have actually meant it.

“Well I’m not fussy, so you can fuck me or ride me and either way I’ll be the one on the ground.” Sylvain was already settling himself on top of Felix’s thick cloak, resting back on his hands with his long legs sprawled in front of him. The material of his outfit spread out around him to expose his tight shorts that were getting even tighter around his crotch, and that was a more convincing argument than anything Sylvain could have said.

Still, Felix couldn’t resist throwing out another comment even as he kneeled down to straddle Sylvain’s bare thighs. “If you get come on my cloak, I’ll make you lick it clean.”

“Kinky,” Sylvain murmured, tilting his chin up. “I can think of other things I would prefer to do with my mouth right now, though.”

“Do they involve shutting up?” With one hand on Sylvain’s shoulder and the other cupping the side of his face, Felix leaned in and made sure he wouldn’t be able to make any more (not-so-) clever comments. It was their first kiss since the one Sylvain had left him with when he’d returned to his family’s lands, the one Felix had assumed was as much of a goodbye to their physical relationship as it was to Felix himself; but they slotted back together like they’d only spent a few hours apart.

Shifting so that he could keep himself upright with one hand, Sylvain buried the other in Felix’s hair and knocked half of it from the short ponytail Felix had taken to keeping it in. There was a distinct desperation to his movements that kept stealing Felix’s breath away, and when Felix eventually pulled back Sylvain sounded equally as breathless while he laughed softly. 

“I missed you so much,” he said, fingers stroking Felix’s messy, half-down hair. “I’m so glad you came back.”

“We promised,” Felix said matter-of-factly. “And...I missed you, too.”

“Aww, Felix!” Sylvain exclaimed, forgetting he was the one holding them both upright and throwing both of his arms around Felix’s shoulders. Core strength alone couldn’t keep him upright for too long and he fell backwards with a surprised huff, taking Felix along with him. “...Ouch.”

“How is your head?” Felix asked, although he covered Sylvain’s mouth with his hand the moment Sylvain got that twinkle in his eye that always meant nothing good was about to come out of his mouth. “I’ll take that to mean that you’re fine.”

“Not as fine as you,” Sylvain said the moment Felix let him, running his hands up Felix’s thighs and sides. “Why are you wearing so many layers, what the fuck.”

“Protection. Wearing more layers on a battlefield is generally considered an advantage,” Felix said dryly. Sitting back upright, he traced his fingers around Sylvain’s thighs where his shorts met his bare skin, feeling immensely pleased when he slipped his fingertips underneath the shorts and Sylvain’s hips bucked upwards.

“Don’t tease me, Felix,” Sylvain said, pulling him down by the front of his shirt to kiss him again. Sylvain had always had a clever tongue, in more ways than one, and Felix found himself grinding down against the hardness in Sylvain’s shorts. Physical pleasure wasn’t something he’d indulged in too often during the past five years, without Sylvain around and without anyone else to catch his interest, and he felt like a hormonal teenager all over again. 

Between that and the fact that his cloak wasn’t quite enough to disguise how cold and hard the dormitory floors were, Felix didn’t waste any time in stripping his shirts off, throwing the whole lot carelessly to the side and trying not to visibly react to Sylvain’s exaggerated whistle. He got up off Sylvain for long enough to send his boots and pants flying as well, and he might have felt more self conscious about being the only naked one if Sylvain had actually been wearing something that covered more than half his body.

As it was, the only things Felix bothered stripping off Sylvain were his shorts and the underwear he was- surprisingly enough- wearing. The rest of his outfit had too many different bits of material and clasps and ties and all manner of nonsense, and if Sylvain was going to be the one on his back on the ground then Felix wasn’t going to make him get entirely naked; even if he would have loved nothing more than to be able to take his time relearning Sylvain’s entire body.

“You’re beautiful,” Sylvain said when Felix settled back onto his thighs, his big hands holding onto Felix’s hips for dear life. 

“Yes, well, I’m also cold so I’m not going to waste time here.” To illustrate his point, Felix loosely wrapped his sword-callused hand around Sylvain’s cock and gave him a few slow strokes. Sylvain exhaled shakily and his eyes fluttered shut, although they snapped open again when Felix suddenly moved back to lean down and run his tongue over the head.

“H-here…” Sylvain said, one of his hands messing Felix’s hair up even more and the other, from what Felix could hear, rummaging through the flowing material of his clothes. Something tapped lightly against his cheek and he turned his face towards it, lips and tongue still working down the side of Sylvain’s cock.

“...I don’t even want to know where you had that stashed,” Felix said when he recognised the small vial of oil that Sylvain was holding out to him. Sylvain’s dick twitched as Felix’s hot breath washed over it, precome beginning to leak from the tip, and Felix collected the mess with his tongue. “Were you planning this the whole time? Or would anyone do?”

“Only you, baby, only you. I hoped...you’d still want me,” Sylvain said breathlessly. He obviously still remembered that Felix liked a bit of hair-pulling, his grip tightening until he earned himself a groan of approval, and Felix groped for the vial as he opened his mouth to fit as much of Sylvain as he could down his throat. He was out of practice but there was no way Sylvain cared; not when he was muttering curses with rising volume until he had to ease Felix off his cock with strong but shaking hands.

“Goddess, Felix, you can keep going if you want to fuck me but I’m gonna come soon so you have to stop if you want me to fuck you.” Stroking his thumbs over Felix’s cheekbones for a brief second, Sylvain let go and flopped back with a heavy sigh, his hips rocking slightly to search for the stimulation that he’d suddenly lost. Wiping his mouth, Felix sat back to appreciate the sight of Sylvain’s heaving chest and his hard, spit-slick cock, not able to fight the urge to find a little relief by lightly stroking his own cock.

Sylvain’s shirt was a thin slip of a thing that did nothing to hide the hardness of his nipples, which were apparently as sensitive as ever- or so Felix discovered when he sat the vial down and ran a gentle fingernail across one. Sylvain arched off the ground with a whine, his thigh muscles contracting and almost knocking Felix off-balance.

As beautifully reactive as he always was, Felix was sorely tempted to spread Sylvain’s legs and lick him open until he was begging to be fucked; but having Sylvain in his mouth again after such a long time had reminded him of how good it felt to have that cock inside him, and so he resolved to try to make Sylvain cry with pleasure another day. For now, he pulled the stopper out of the vial and let the thick oil coat his fingers, biting his lip in anticipation as he prepared himself for Sylvain’s thick cock.

At some point, Sylvain lifted himself up on his forearms to get a better look at Felix opening himself up, his mouth obviously going dry from how frequently his tongue was flicking out to wet his lips. Figuring he could help with that, Felix planted his unoccupied hand on Sylvain’s chest and pushed him back to the ground, continuing to finger himself as he pressed his tongue into Sylvain’s mouth.

Sylvain was holding him close like he never wanted to let go but there was only so much Felix could take. Even if it had been_...a while,_ he wanted to feel Sylvain inside him, fucking him open and truly bringing them back together. Managing to extricate himself from Sylvain’s hands, Felix slipped his fingers out of himself and felt his ass clench around nothing. He unceremoniously dumped the remaining oil on Sylvain’s cock, and that was probably going to drip down and leave a hard-to-explain mess on his cloak, but issues of laundry weren’t his main concern when Sylvain was sprawled out underneath him with a flush lighting his face and sweat making his shirt see-through in parts. 

“Take it slow if you need t- _ah!_ Or not,” Sylvain said, his voice rising in pitch when Felix kneeled up, held Sylvain’s slick cock steady with one hand, and promptly let it spread his hole open until the entire thing was inside him. “_Fuck,_ Felix, you’re so tight. When did you last...?”

“The night before you left for home,” Felix said without hesitation or shame. He’d had more important things to worry about during an actual war than finding a casual hookup, although he wasn’t foolish enough to think that the same had been true for Sylvain- and nor was he jealous enough to care.

“The night before- that was five years ago!” Grinding his hips up into Felix, probably to relieve some of the needy pleasure from Felix’s ass clenching around him without actually moving, Sylvain bit his lip and looked away. “I’m sorry I can’t say the same, I-”

Slipping two fingers from his clean hand into Sylvain’s mouth to cut him off, Felix shook his head and tried to make himself look as understanding as he could manage with a cock up his ass. “Are you mine right now? The way I’m yours?”

“Of course,” Sylvain said- or at least, that’s what the garbled words that came out around Felix’s fingers sounded like. Murmuring an apology, Felix pulled out his fingers until the tips were resting on Sylvain’s bottom lip, vaguely entranced by the way they glistened with Sylvain’s saliva. “It’s only you that matters, and I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Then that’s all I care about.” Bracing himself with one hand on Sylvain’s chest- ‘accidentally’ rubbing against a hard nipple in the process- and with the other still resting against Sylvain’s lips, Felix gave them both what they needed and finally began to fuck himself on Sylvain’s cock. 

His fingers slipped back into Sylvain’s mouth when his lips opened around a breathy moan, and he was about to pull them back out when Sylvain’s tongue ran over and then between them, his lips closing around the two fingers. The sensation made Felix ride Sylvain a little faster, his cock throbbing where it bounced untouched between his legs as he fucked himself on the hard dick spreading him open.

As good as it was to have the wet heat of Sylvain’s mouth around his fingers, though, sex with Sylvain didn’t seem _right_ without his usual stream of nonsense compliments and dirty talk, and so Felix pulled his hand away from Sylvain’s mouth and put it on his own dick instead, stroking himself with the saliva Sylvain had left behind. 

“You haven’t lost your touch at all,” Sylvain started up almost immediately, his hands tightening around Felix’s waist. “So beautiful, baby, wish I could see how well you’re opening up for me but you look so good riding me.”

Bucking into his hand, Felix pushed through the burn in his legs and fucked himself harder, knowing there would be other chances to go long and slow and draw it out until they were both incoherent with need. For now he simply wanted to show how much he’d missed Sylvain, how much he needed him-

How much he _loved_ him.

Sylvain was holding him so tightly that Felix thought there might be bruising, his hips thrusting up to meet Felix’s own rhythm and his mouthing cycling between moans, curses and almost-understandable dirty talk. But if he could still feel it in the morning then it would mean that the whole thing had been real, that Sylvain had really come back to him, and so Felix was happy to explain away a little tenderness if anyone asked.

Although they hadn’t exactly been subtle, and so he wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that almost everyone had put two and two together and gotten four. But without the spectre of Margrave Gautier and his obsession with passing on the crest looming over their relationship, Felix didn’t particularly care who figured out why they’d really disappeared together. 

“-lix. Felix!” Sylvain’s voice, clearer than it had been before, broke Felix out of his thoughts and he looked down at Sylvain with a raised eyebrow. “Oh good, you are still in there. Thought I might have fucked the sense out of you for real this time.”

“Not quite, although you’re welcome to keep trying,” Felix replied. Tossing his hair back, his ponytail a complete and utter loss, Felix shoved his thoughts aside and focused instead on the man underneath him. His shirt was now sticking to his skin, highlighting the lines and dips of his muscles, and Felix filed a mental note to go over each one with his tongue later. 

“You’re so much nicer when you’re getting fucked. I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

Felix supposed Sylvain was right, considering that he didn’t even have the urge to make a biting comment in reply. He knew he was prickly and unapproachable, but it was hard to keep that up when he felt so good- so _ loved. _

He would probably die of shame if he ever tried to say that out loud, though.

“I’m getting close, _fuck. _Are you?” Sylvain asked, his chest heaving and his eyes gleaming bright. Felix figured he could probably stroke himself off without a problem- but if there was one thing Sylvain excelled at, it was being a _very_ generous lover, and he knew something better would be waiting for him if he held off a little longer.

“No, but you can come inside me,” Felix said, a moan escaping when that made Sylvain’s hips stutter and then slam into him. He certainly hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that he was close, and it didn’t take long before Felix was gasping at the sensation of Sylvain’s come flooding into him, although the sound was lost under Sylvain’s own breathless groans. 

As Felix had been hoping, Sylvain barely let himself relax into the afterglow of his orgasm before he was suddenly pulling out and flipping them both over. Felix had a second or two to realise that the floor still was not the slightest bit comfortable even with his cloak over it, but those thoughts were quickly chased away when Sylvain slipped two fingers inside his come-filled hole and wrapped his lips around the head of Felix’s desperately hard cock.

“_Ffffffuck,”_ Felix gasped loudly, thrusting up into Sylvain’s mouth and feeling him sit there and take it. “Little more-”

Sylvain sucked harder and Felix nearly screamed, his teeth clamping onto his bottom lip as he came down Sylvain’s throat. The sensation of Sylvain swallowing around him made his legs shake, and he was trembling and sensitive by the time Sylvain let him go and crawled up to lay beside him.

“Good?” Sylvain asked, tucking a strand of sweaty hair behind Felix’s ear and then cupping his face, Felix assuming he looked as positively debauched as Sylvain did. The ground was uncomfortable and his cloak was probably filthy and by the goddess, he didn’t even care.

“Good.”

“I’m glad,” Sylvain said fondly. “Love you.”

Sweaty, messy bodies almost pressed together, the pair of them stayed together on the floor as their heart rates began to come back down, Felix knowing he’d have to move soon before Sylvain’s come began to feel gross inside of him but not wanting to break the moment. He’d leave that to Sylvain who, right on cue, rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow to look down at his lover.

“Felix?”

“Hmm?”

“I have to tell you something,” Sylvain said, suddenly sounding oddly subdued. Felix almost sat upright before he remembered the come threatening to leak out of him and go all over his cloak, and so he settled for lifting himself up enough to pin Sylvain with a glare.

“If you’re actually married, I’m going to cut your dick off and send it with a messenger to your wife.”

Wincing, Sylvain’s thighs reflexively tightened and he cupped himself protectively. “No, goddess no, nothing like that. I might not have been entirely honest about what I was doing for the past five years, though.”

“The only reason I’m not accusing you of being an empire spy right now is because I know you’d barely last ten seconds before you spilled everything,” Felix said dryly, one eyebrow rising. “Get to the point before you ruin my afterglow.”

“I’m usually a Paladin class,” Sylvain blurted out, “but I wanted you to see me looking sexy and remember how attracted to me you were.”

“That is the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Felix said tiredly, too well-fucked and glad that he wasn’t Sylvain’s mistress to actually be mad.

“That’s fair, but it worked, didn’t it?”

Not wanting to answer that, Felix ignored it. “So, you’re not usually a Dancer.”

“I am not.”

“You’re just an idiot who put himself at risk to increase his chances of getting laid.”

Sylvain’s answer was slower and more begrudging this time, but no less honest. “Well, yes, but you should really already know that I’m like that. And I got properly certified as a Dancer years ago!”

“You are _so lucky_ that I love you,” Felix said, rolling his eyes. “Get me something to clean up with and I’ll forgive your idiocy.”

“Aww, you love me!” Sylvain cooed happily, undoing one of his fancy, flowing layers that were now covered in sweat and who knew what else. “Well, I don’t need this outfit anymore, so…”

“That’s disgusting,” Felix said, but he let Sylvain begin to clean him up anyway. Better Sylvain’s stupid (hot) outfit than his good travelling cloak, in any case; although he was still going to have to find a private chance to wash that as well. 

But with Sylvain beside him for the first time in five years, and their relationship apparently in better shape than Felix had ever dared to hope, he could forgive a little extra laundry and a lot of stupidity. That was more than worth having Sylvain back- this time without feeling like time was ticking down to the inevitable end of their love.

Although he was going to leave it to Sylvain to explain if anyone asked why he was suddenly missing half of his outfit.

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on [Tumblr](http://socialdegenerate.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/socialdegener8)


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